The Question Game
by DeLa26
Summary: Dirty finger nails mindlessly fiddle with the thick, metal chain that's connected to the cold wall. AU. Luke, Elle


**The Question Game **

**Author**: dela26

**Rating**: PG-13

**Summary**: Dirty finger nails mindlessly fiddle with the thick, metal chain that's connected to the cold wall. AU. Luke, Elle.

**Author's Note**: AU, could be taking place in any of the future realities in the Heroes universe. From the prompt "Shoplifting" at the Elle-Luke Livejournal Community. I wasn't able to get it up in time for the challenge, 'cause I like to take way too much time thinking about an idea prior to writing it out. But, better late than never. Reviews are like candy. ;)

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Dirty finger nails mindlessly fiddle with the thick, metal chain that's connected to the cold wall. The torus-shaped links clank loudly together at the slightest movements. The chain is latched on to some form of high tech collar fastened tightly around his neck. The device dampens his abilities, leaving him absolutely powerless.

Luke glances over to the corner of the room. He knows that the other person is there in the darkness, but he can't tell if his cellmate is awake, unconscious or dead.

"What is the worst thing you've ever done?" Luke inquires, voice raw and raspy.

Silence.

Luke sighs to himself and continues with more volume, providing an example to help prompt his cellmate, "You know, like illegal, unethical stuff?"

He hears shuffling noises. Looks like she's still alive after all.

A slow and sad sound emerges, like the rushing of an underground river. It took him several long seconds to recognize it as laughter.

Finally, between the strange noise, her dry and tired voice comes out. "Something that might get you thrown in prison?"

The laughter bubbles louder at the irony of her own words. The sound echoes in the small, concrete room.

"Yeah, like, I don't know...shoplifting?" Luke smirks to himself.

"Shoplifting, huh? Does stealing an expensive car count?" She murmurs, her voice holds a cold bitterness.

He squints his eyes, forces himself to see the hidden figure. After a few moments, a blurry image appears out of the darkness. He's not sure if it's his imagination, or if his eyes are finally adjusting to the lack of light. She's sitting Indian style, legs crossed, upper body hunched forward. Her dirty golden hair is covering her face. He wishes he could move over to her, lightly brush away the damp curls to see her eyes. But he knows that no matter how hard he tries, he'll never be able to touch her. The chains keep them situated in their respective corners.

"You ever kill anyone?" He raises a knowing eyebrow.

She snorts at his question. He can't tell if she's making fun of him or upset.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall makes Luke freeze completely. He takes in sharp breath through his noise and holds it tightly, careful not to draw any unwanted attention to himself. The stale air fills him up, he can practically taste the sour smell of vomit, piss, and blood that he's been attempting to ignore.

The guards make their rounds regularly, occasionally providing mushy substances that are suppose to be edible. And other times, they drag the prisoners into a special room. In that blinding white chamber, Luke has been subjected to tests and experiments, interrogation, and various forms of torture. His body relaxes as the footsteps pass their cell, safe for at least the time being.

His fingers unconsciously move to inspect his face, hovering over the tender area covering his left eye, forehead and cheek. The last time they took him, they branded him. So, if he ever got outta of this hell hole, the whole world is going to know what he is. Evolved human, genetic anomaly, mutant freak. Elle has a matching mark, but it doesn't seem as severe since she has such an extensive collection of burns and scars scattered across her entire body.

"What about you, squirt? What's the worst thing you've ever done?" Elle uses the distraction to ignore the question, put it back on Luke. And he's okay with that. Sometimes she's in a sharing mood, but most of the time she's not.

"Lemme see...." Luke closes his eyes and really thinks about the question. Decides to take this sweet time before responding. All they have is time.

No longer do they talk about freedom, revenge. The question game fills up their boredom, distracts them from the reality of their doomed existence and the war that's raging on outside of the prison walls.


End file.
